


Dishes

by shittyshittyfuckmytitty



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-21 17:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22833829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittyshittyfuckmytitty/pseuds/shittyshittyfuckmytitty
Summary: Richie doesn't have much time after Eddie diesorDepression hits Richie harder than he thought it would.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Dishes

Richie doesn’t have much time since Eddie has died. His mind is in a constant state of occupance, and during conversation, he is never really there. There is never full attention of the recipient, because his mind will always linger back to what he could and should have done, what he should and could have said. There is no state of euphoria for him anymore as there was in Eddie seconds before he let his last breath warm Richie’s face. There is nothing but coldness and darkness in a world that should seem so bright. He needs a distraction, and that is what he gives himself.

The losers don’t see Richie as much as they wish to. He has a very busy schedule now, what with being a comedian and having a wit most wish to see, and his head, is in ways, even busier. It is cloudy to be himself. As-if he is staring down at murky water, his own reflection that stares back at him blurry.

He wishes things will come full circle for him as they did Bill and Bev and Mike and Ben but it doesn’t and he isn’t sure it ever will. How does he take one step forwards when he has taken two steps backwards? When he is one step back from falling off of the edge?

He knows he has fallen off of the edge because the dishes have begun to pile up in his sink. Richie really wishes he had a dishwasher.

Time is all he really has left, and he doesn’t use it as wisely as he wants. He wants to reach out to his friends, but he never really was good at communication, his pleads for help masked behind the ironic sense of humour he withholds. He does spend as much time as possible, during the few days he has spare every month, at the Kissing Bridge recurving his and Eddie’s initials into it. He visits around the small town of Derry, recites every memory of the two of them, playing it back in his head like an old film in fear of it not being able to play anymore. In fear of Eddie’s face becoming recognisable, in fear of losing the last memory he has of his childhood crush that had turned into adult want.

Richie rests his head against the car window. It is blacked out, and he presses his hand up against it. Someday, he’ll see Eddie again. Someday, but not today.


End file.
